


sure and slow all your secrets

by seeingrightly



Series: more than a trick of the light [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (i don't even actually ship this I WAS COERCED), Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson woke up around eleven. He usually didn’t like to sleep in that late, but whenever he stayed over at Derek’s, he was content to stay a few extra hours in the enormous bed he’d bullied Derek into buying for his apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sure and slow all your secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Charlene Kaye's "Don't Make Me Believe".

Jackson woke up around eleven. He usually didn’t like to sleep in that late, but whenever he stayed over at Derek’s, he was content to stay a few extra hours in the enormous bed he’d bullied Derek into buying for his apartment. Besides, Derek really only ever let him stay over on Friday nights, even though Jackson insisted he would be fine to get up early and stop by his house to get changed before school.  
  
He rolled over to discover he was already in the middle of the mattress, wrapped up in the comforter. Even though werewolves ran hot, he was still a blanket hog. And a mattress hog. And a pillow hog. Whatever. Derek usually pretended he didn’t need things like pillows or comfort or human compassion, anyway.  
  
He could hear Derek moving around out in the kitchen. It smelled like there was bacon being cooked. That was enough to motivate Jackson to crawl off the mattress and pick up a pair of boxers to slide into. They didn’t have any holes in them or look like they had survived a sad, sad life on the run for several years, so they were probably his own.  
  
Heading out of the bedroom, Jackson stopped in the doorway of the small portion of the apartment that was supposed to be an entire kitchen but was really, like, a small expanse of counter space and two cabinets and appliances that weren’t really big enough for the amount of food necessary when the whole pack came over. Derek was standing in front of the stove holding a frying pan and wearing blue plaid pajama bottom slung low on his hips, which, what? Sometimes Derek looked like a normal person and it really freaked Jackson out.  
  
“I hope you’re only using egg whites,” he said.  
  
“You do the pack grocery shopping and you get to pick what I make,” Derek replied.  
  
Jackson moved into the not-a-kitchen, smacking Derek on the ass as he walked by. Derek growled, bared his teeth, and flashed red eyes at Jackson, then cursed when the bacon started to burn. Reaching into the fridge for the orange juice, Jackson tried and failed to stifle a snort. Derek kicked him gently in the back of the knee and Jackson nearly dropped the carton of orange juice.  
  
“Mature,” he huffed.  
  
Derek rolled his eyes as he turned off the burner and started moving all the food onto plates. They met at the small table – it unfolded to be slightly larger, not that there were enough chairs for the entire pack – and Jackson passed over a glass of orange juice as Derek put a plate in front of him. His scrambled eggs were, of course, made with only egg whites. He smirked.  
  
“Shut up,” Derek said through a mouthful of bacon.


End file.
